


Your Name

by Faded_and_Fleeting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe — Spirited Away, Day 4: Free Day!!, M/M, Sheith Month 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faded_and_Fleeting/pseuds/Faded_and_Fleeting
Summary: Keith finds himself in a place he didn't know existed.





	Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fourth day of @sheithmonth! This is a work heavily inspired by Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away. It's always been one of my favorite movies and I haven't seen a Sheith crossover fic yet, so here we are!

_Moving again_. **  
**

Keith looks at his parents through the front mirror, and what he sees is them happily chatting away as if they aren’t about to relocate for the ninth time in three years. His mother catches the look of despair in his eyes and turns around to give him the same speech she gives every time they pack up and move, and Keith tunes her out. He faintly remembers a time in which her spiel had helped. However, after hearing it twice, Keith realizes that regardless of what she tries to do to comfort him, it doesn’t make him feel any better. If anything, it makes him feel  _worse_.

He gives her a smile. It is wan, but convincing enough for her to believe that her words hold some kind of effect on him. The second she turns back around, Keith rolls his eyes and lays down on the back seat, staring glumly at the back oh his mother’s chair. He wishes that this father would quit taking job offers that force them to move so far away. It isn’t fair. No matter how much he loves his home, his school, and his friends, his parents always think there’s something bigger, something better, something brighter out there and go after it without giving Keith a say in the matter.

His eyes settle on the window across from him. What he sees is beautiful greenery. Beautiful yet fleeting; moving too fast for him to appreciate it more for what it truly is. It gives way to an endless expanse of sky dotted with thin, wispy clouds.

On their way to the airport, they stop by a field to get some fresh air. Keith is all too happy to get out of the car and stretch his legs. The wind is as heavy on his skin as it is in Keith’s heart. He needs some time alone; time away from his parents, away from the car, away from the reality that stares him right in the face. He picks a couple of dandelions from the roadside as he wanders, watching as the wind carries hundreds of unspoken wishes into the distance. For a moment, a strange feeling overcomes Keith, like he’s traveled the same path, danced the same dance.

“Don’t go off too far, Keith! We’re leaving in an hour,” his mother calls out, but Keith is already a hundred meters away and barely hears her, shrouded by tall grass and swaying flowers.

He doesn’t know where he’s going or where he’ll end up. He follows his intuition, lets the wind be his guide. His feet take him to the edge of the field, and what waits there is a large stone tunnel, overgrown with moss and vines that hang like eerie tendrils. Keith feels like if he goes through this tunnel, he’ll be swallowed whole and spit out into another dimension. And yet, that doesn’t faze him. Anything is better than being trapped in a stuffy little car for three more hours.

He enters the tunnel on nothing but instinct. There’s no light, and aside from the too-loud echo of his footsteps, there’s no sound. The walls inside the tunnel are mossy and damp, and yet, Keith feels lighthearted.

He’s halfway through when he stops for a moment to consider going back, but Keith sees no reason in it. Not when he sees the light at the end.

When he emerges, he is greeted by the sight of yet another field; a wide expanse of shimmering red and purple flowers. The sway in the grass is more graceful, more fluid, and his footsteps are lighter.

He turns back and finds that the tunnel he came from is gone. In its place is a solid cobblestone wall covered in vines and various flower bushes. His eyes widen slightly as he presses his hands to the place where the tunnel opening should be. It doesn’t make sense. He’s not crazy. He knows he’s not. The tunnel was just here.

“Feeling around won’t get you anywhere.”

Keith whirls around. Standing a few feet away is a man, probably a few years older than him and definitely taller.

“I… It — The tunnel was just here,” Keith sputters, gesturing wildly to the solid wall of rock behind him.

“Yes, I know,” the man says. “But it’s not there anymore. Come on, you’re wasting your time. It won’t be back for another week.”

Keith chokes. “A week?”

“A week,” the man affirms, already making his way through the field. “Now, are you coming with me or not? You don’t want to be out here at night.”

“I— Yeah.” Keith stumbles after him. “Wait, what happens during the night?”

“Bad things.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“No,” the stranger sighs, finally turning to Keith. “Now, stop asking questions.”

“What?”

“You need to stop asking questions,” the stranger hisses. He sounds urgent, scared even. He takes hold of Keith’s wrist and pulls him along. “Questions make you forget.”

“Forget?” Keith blinks. “Forget what?”

“Everything. You’ll forget everything.” The stranger leads him to the edge of the field and into a small town. There are a couple of houses and shops, but nothing too spectacular to look at. Several lanterns light their path. At the end of the street, there’s a coffeehouse, or what Keith thinks is a coffeehouse. That’s where the stranger takes him.

As soon as they pass through the doors, Keith is met with the overwhelming aroma of fresh-ground coffee and baked pastries. The stranger doesn’t give him the time to look around, leading him to a small table in the very back where he’s forced to sit down on one of the chairs. Keith rubs his wrist as soon as the stranger lets his wrist go.

“What’s your name?” the stranger asks as he pulls up a chair and sits directly beside Keith. The sudden close proximity has Keith backing up a bit.

“It’s Keith,” he replies quickly.

“Okay, good,” the stranger nods. “Don’t forget it.”

Keith blinks. “But why—”

“Shh,” the stranger cuts him off with a finger pressed to Keith’s lips. “Questions make you forget things. The more you learn about this world, the more susceptible you are to forgetting about your own. It’s a give and take deal. If you ask too much, you learn too much; and if you learn too much, you forget too much. The instant you forget your name, the one thing that binds you to the Outside, you stay here forever.”

“If I may,” Keith speaks up, albeit rather hesitantly, “where is  _here_?”

“The Spirit World.”

Keith narrows his eyes skeptically, unsure if he’s misheard what the man just said. “I—”

“How old are you?” the stranger interrupts again.

“Eighteen,” Keith answers. “I don’t understand, though. Why—”

“What were you doing before you came here?”

Keith opens his mouth to speak, bit the moment he does, the words die in his throat. He cannot recall what he’d been doing just before entering this place. All he knows is that he found himself in a field. Before that, nothing. He looks up worriedly at the stranger and struggles to find his voice. “I… I don’t… I don’t remember.”

The stranger frowns and lowers his head. “I’ve told you too much already. Please, stop asking questions, for your own sake.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks out the window before he speaks up again. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Keith.”

The stranger’s shoulders sag in relief. There’s still hope yet for Keith to return. “Good. Don’t forget it.”

Keith can’t help himself. “When can I return home?”

“Sometime next week. The portal to the human world opens once a week. If you can remember your name, you can leave,” the stranger replies. “Do you know your name?”

“It’s Keith.”

“Alright, good,” the stranger nods. “Don’t forget that.”

–

He’s out in the fields one day when he sees her; a short girl with huge circular glasses. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail and she’s wearing a frilly lilac dress. She’s sitting among the flowers, book in hand. Keith’s curiosity gets the better of him and he inches closer to get a look at what she’s reading. Her head snaps in his direction and he mentally curses.

“Can I help you?” the girl asks.

“I— Sorry,” Keith fumbles, taking a few steps back. “I just, uh, wanted to see what you were reading.”

“Oh, this?” she holds up the book. “It’s nothing special. Just one of those cheesy romance novels.”

Keith hums, refusing to move from his spot.

“You can come sit down, you know. I don’t bite,” the girl laughs. Keith doesn’t move.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t want to bother you.”

The girl waves off that statement. “I’m serious, it’s fine. Come sit down. I’m Pidge, by the way.”

Keith looks at her for a moment and shrugs, taking the girl—Pidge, he notes—up on her offer. He approaches with careful steps and sits down in the space to her right. “I’m Keith,” he responds.

“Nice to meet you, Keith,” Pidge smiles. Keith watches as she dog-ears the page she’s on and closes her book, setting it off to the side. She bends her legs and hugs them close to her chest, resting her cheek on her knees. “You’re not from here, are you? You’re… You’re human.”

Keith blinks. “I… Aren’t you human, too?”

“Nope,” Pidge replies. “Anyone who’s been here for longer than a week becomes a spirit.”

“Oh,” Keith stammers. “How long have you been here?”

Pidge sighs as she shifts her gaze to the front, eyes narrowing as she thinks before answering. “I’m not sure. It’s been so long. A decade, maybe? Two?”

Keith’s brows knit in confusion, lips pursing slightly. “You have a name, though. You could leave, right? You can still leave if you have a name.”

Pidge shakes her head and lets out a bitter laugh, and Keith winces.

“I was only given this name by a guy some years ago. His name was Lance, but he left. He remembered his name and he left.”

Keith’s hit a nerve, and the way Pidge looks at him is proof of that. She doesn’t look happy or joyful. If anything, Pidge is sad, heartbroken.

“Sometimes,” she sighs, “sometimes I wish he had stayed here with me. He was the only thing that ever made me feel human around here. Other times, though, I’m happy that he left. He gets to live his life instead of being trapped here.”

Keith lowers his head, and Pidge picks up her book, fingers caressing the faded text on the cover. Keith discreetly glances over and looks at her. There’s something hauntingly beautiful about the sight of her alone in the midst of this feels, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders if all the spirits here feel the same way Pidge does.

His pondering comes to a screeching halt when he hears the man from the coffeehouse call out to him, “Come here.” Keith looks over his shoulder and sees him at the edge of the field. He stands up, waves to Pidge, and heads across the field. As soon as he’s within arm’s reach, the man grabs him by the shoulders.

“What’s your name?” he asks. He sounds panicked.

“It’s Keith.”

The man sighs heavily, fingers tightening a moment before he lets Keith go. “Alright, good. Don’t forget that.” He looks over to where Pidge still sits amid the flowers and then looks back to Keith again. “Don’t talk to other spirits. They’re compelled to answer you. You’ll learn too much.”

“Losing my memories… It’s permanent, isn’t it?” Keith whispers solemnly.

The man nods. “Once your memories are gone, they’re gone. They won’t come back. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“So you—”

“I was human once,” the man laments. “I wandered through that tunnel, just like you. I spoke to the spirits here and asked too many questions. Eventually, I forgot my name. I can’t even begin to tell you how long I’ve been here.”

Keith frowns for a moment before he looks up at the man with a faint smile and reaches out to touch his shoulder. “Say, if I gave you a name, would it help?”

The man gawks at Keith for a second before bursting out into laughter. Keith wonders if he’s said something funny. The man steps back, just out of Keith’s reach. “No, it won’t. Once you forget your name, you can’t leave, even if you somehow obtain a new one.” The man glances over to his left, and Keith follows his gaze. Pidge is still sitting out in the field, and it clicks. The conversation he had with Pidge earlier plays through his mind like a broken record.

“That’s… That’s what happened to Pidge.” Keith’s face falls. “That’s so sad.”

“I’m not sure about how Pidge really feels about it, about being here, but I feel happier here than I did in the human world. Well, at least I think I do. I don’t remember.” The man looks over at Keith. “Were you happy out there?”

“I…” Keith blanches. “I don’t remember.”

The man looks like he’s seen a ghost as he closes the distance he created and grips Keith’s shoulders. “You have to stop asking questions. You’re learning too much. Quick, what is your name?”

“Keith.” A pause. “Maybe… Maybe it’s better that I forget.”

The man shakes his head frantically. The look in his eyes is something frantic, scared, and desperate. “Stop that. You don’t— You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t remember.”

“Just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean I don’t feel it,” Keith replies. “And besides, maybe I don’t  _want_  to remember.”

“Enough of this,” the man sighs. “Come on. We’re going back to the coffeehouse.”

The man turns on his heel and starts making his way back, but Keith hesitates. He looks out into the field once more, now finding it empty. Pidge is gone.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and follows the man back to the coffeehouse. He stares intently at the man’s back as they pass through town, lips pursing in thought. They enter the coffeehouse and Keith immediately sits at one of the tables, chin resting on his hand and he gazes out the window. It starts to rain.

The man comes back with a fresh brew of coffee and places the mug in front of Keith before sitting across from him. Keith speaks up.

“Takashi.”

The man looks up at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

“Your name,” Keith says, a smile spreading over his lips. “From now on, your name is Takashi.”

The man, Takashi, regards him with a look of bewilderment before it’s replaced with a huge smile. It’s a smile that tells Keith he likes the name. Keith can feel his own smile growing.

—

“How much longer until the portal opens back up?” Keith asks. He’s laying amid the flowers gazing up at the stars. Takashi is beside him sitting upright, twirling a red flower between his fingers.

“After tonight, three days,” Takashi answers. “What is your name?”

Keith groans. He’s getting tired of hearing that question. “It’s Keith.”

Takashi hums as he leans over and settles the flower he’s holding into Keith’s hair. He smiles gently. “Good. Don’t forget that.”

There’s a pause. Keith turns onto his side and looks Takashi dead in the eye. “Maybe I want to forget, Takashi. Maybe I don’t want to go home.”

Takashi seems taken aback. He struggles to find words, shaking his head as a wave of disbelief comes over him. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” Keith challenges. “I like it here. I’m happy here. Happier than I was back home.”

“You can’t mean that,” Takashi whispers. Keith swears his voice breaks. “You don’t remember.”

“I know,” Keith shrugs, “but I can feel it. I’m honestly not that sad about forgetting.”

“But, Kei—”

“Don’t you dare say my name.”

“Keith,” Takashi does it anyway. “You have to think about what you’re leaving behind. Don’t you have family? Friends?”

“Why do you want me to go back so much?” Keith demands. He sits up and turns to face Takashi dead on. “Do you not like me or something?”

“What? No, that’s not it!” Takashi says quickly. “It’s just… I feel like you’d have a better life there.”

“And if that isn’t the case?”

“You don’t know that, Keith,” Takashi grits out. “You’ve already forgotten.”

“Okay, fair,” Keith frowns. “But what if I were to go back only to find out that I liked being here more?”

“That’s not possible.”

“Is it?”

Takashi nods as he plucks another red flower from the ground. “Once you go back, all the memories you lost here will be returned to you. The memories you gain here will vanish. The coffeehouse, this field, the people,” Takashi trails off, and Keith swears he can hear a tinge of sadness in his voice. After a moment, he hears Takashi’s voice again as it comes out in a broken whisper. “…me. You’ll forget everything. Everything that you saw, everything that you heard, will become nothing more than a dream that’ll fade over time.”

“Taka—”

“Stop,” Takashi begs. “Please, don’t ask any more questions.”

“I—”

“ _Don’t_. Please just. Don’t,” Takashi pleads again. “What’s your name?”

“Keith.”

Takashi doesn’t say anything after that, and Keith watches him get up and walk back to town. He decides to get up as well and follows a few paces behind. Minutes pass, and neither of them says anything. The silence is excruciating. He has questions and he wants answers to those questions.

Neither of them says anything as they enter the coffeehouse. Neither of them says anything as they ready themselves for bed. Takashi is eerily silent, not even bidding Keith a simple goodnight before going to bed.

Somehow, that makes Keith’s heart ache.

—

On Wednesday evening, he finds himself out in the fields with Pidge again. She doesn’t have her book this time, opting to lay beside Keith and look up at the stars. Takashi has been gone all day, and Keith had gotten tired of sitting alone at the coffeehouse. He’s glad he came back out to the fields.

“So apparently I’m leaving on Sunday,” he tells her. “That is, if I even want to.”

Pidge snorts. “What do you mean by that? Everyone who walks in here wants to walk right back out. Maybe you’ve forgotten too much. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“That’s not true,” Keith replies. “I like it here. It’s quiet, peaceful. I’ve made friends with you and Takashi. That isn’t something I want to forget.”

Pidge raises a perfectly arched brow. “Takashi?”

“The one who runs the coffeehouse in town.”

“You gave him a name?” Pidge gasps. “You… You shouldn’t have done that.”

“What? Why?”

“If nameless spirits are given names,” Pidge explains, “they become attached to the ones who gave them their names. When you leave, Takashi will end up like me.”

Keith blinks. “You aren’t unhappy, though.”

“I’m not happy either.”

Keith’s eyebrows knit together as he closes his eyes and thinks about Takashi smiling.  _Happy_. He vividly recalls the day he gave Takashi his name, how Takashi’s smile shined so brightly just in that moment. Will he continue to smile like that even if Keith leaves?

He looks down at Pidge, and something in his expression changes. There’s a peculiar spark in his eye and Pidge notes the way he holds his head just a bit higher.

“I’m not leaving,” he says with certainty. “I don’t want to. I’m not leaving Takashi here by himself.”

Pidge doesn’t say anything further.

—

“Hey, Takashi,” Keith asks, “will you remember me if I leave?” He’s sitting at a small restaurant with Takashi, aimlessly staring out the window as they wait for their food.

“How could I ever hope to forget you?” Takashi replies, reaching out to touch Keith’s hand that rests on the table. The moment he does, he retracts his hand, looking away guiltily.

Keith forces a smile. “I’m not sure. I just hope you don’t.”

Takashi laughs. There’s no joy or humor, only dry sorrow. “That’s unfair. When you leave, you’ll lose all your memories of this place; all your memories of me. Me, on the other hand…”

Keith finally looks over at Takashi. “Will you be sad if I leave, Takashi?”

Takashi’s shoulders stiffen, and he looks away, finding something, anything to look at other than straight into Keith’s eyes. “People usually get sad when other people leave, don’t they?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Takashi. I asked if you would be sad.”

“Well, what do you think?” Takashi whispers. There’s no malice, no sarcasm. It’s an honest question, and truthfully, it’s a question Keith doesn’t have an answer to. Takashi notices that uncertainty and heaves out a sigh. “Of course. Of course, I’ll be sad.”

Keith watches as Takashi leans forward and digs the heels of his hands into his forehead. His eyes are screwed shut, lips pressed in a tight line. He’s fighting with himself.

“You don’t understand,” Keith barely hears him say. “It’s like you’re the last of my kind, the only one able to discern the language I speak. When I’m around you, my heart feels so full, and I’m not alone. I don’t feel like I’m trapped in this endless cycle of pain and confusion. You walked into my life and brought with you beauty and meaning that I can’t even hope to comprehend. You make me smile, you make me laugh, even when I try to stop it. You make me trip over my words at the most inopportune times. Dammit, I think I’m in lo—”

Takashi immediately stops himself before he finishes that thought and clears his throat, his eyes glued to the floor. Keith remains seated, mouth slightly agape as he tries to comprehend what’s real and what’s not.

“God, I must be crazy,” Takashi sighs. When he looks up at Keith he gives him a pained smile. “Yes, I’ll be sad if you leave.”

He stands up to leave, to prepare some coffee, to clean up, to do anything if it means getting away, but there’s a hand that clutches the sleeve of his shirt, and two arms that suddenly embrace him from behind. He can feel Keith nuzzle his face into his back and he swears his heart is going to leap out of his throat if he doesn’t get away soon.

“I don’t want to leave,” he hears Keith say. The words are muffled and slightly broken, but Takashi can hear them. “Please, don’t make me leave, Takashi. Don’t make me…”

“Keith,” Takashi whispers, and his voice cracks, “you don’t mean that. You don’t know that. You don’t… You don’t remember.”

“I don’t care,” Keith replies. “I don’t care. I don’t care if I don’t remember. That doesn’t matter to me, Takashi. What I feel right now… I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” Takashi feels Keith’s arms tighten around him and god he can’t do this anymore.

“You don’t—”

Takashi chokes on his words, and Keith holds on to him even tighter.

—

It’s Sunday.

Keith and Takashi walk through the field of glowing red and purple flowers back to the tunnel from which Keith came. They’re both silent, neither daring to speak. After yesterday, neither of them have anything to say to each other. It’s aggravating, and even though Keith tries, he can’t find any words.

When they finally reach the tunnel, Takashi turns and takes a hold of Keith’s hands. He smiles sadly. “Don’t forget your name. Go through the tunnel and back to your world, and whatever you do, don’t look back until you’ve passed to the other side.”

He releases Keith’s hands and with hesitance urges Keith to go forward. Keith takes one step, then two, and then a few more before he’s standing at the tunnel’s entrance. He peers into the darkness, not knowing what awaits him on the other side, but it can’t be anything worth more than what he’s found here. He sucks in a ragged breath as he whirls around, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. His hands clench into tight fists at his sides, and he can faintly feel the sting of his nails digging into his palms.

“Takashi,” whispers, a broken plea that he’s sure is bound to fall upon deaf ears. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here.”

Takashi closes the distance between them and settles his right hand on Keith’s shoulder. Slowly, he finds his words. “You have a life back in your world. I’m not going to take that from you.”

“I wasn’t happy there, Takashi,” Keith replies. “I know. I know that I don’t have any memories of the place. But what does that matter when I can feel it, Takashi? If I really valued my life there, I would have been  _devastated_  to be here.”

“Keith—”

“Stop saying my name!” Keith snaps. “I want to forget it. Please, I want to stay.”

“You don’t belong here,” Takashi says. “This world, it isn’t yours.”

“It is if you’re in it,” Keith responds, and Takashi feels his heart lurch. There’s a pause, and Keith looks up at him, eyes bright with defiance. “Why do you run that coffeehouse?”

“Because the spirits here like coffee,” Takashi response. “Keith, stop it.”

Keith doesn’t listen. “Okay, why do spirits like coffee?”

“It temporarily reminds them of what being alive feels like. Please, stop it.”

“Don’t you get it, Takashi?” Keith huffs, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t want to go back! The other day, when you said all those things, what were you really trying to tell me?”

Takashi grits his teeth in an attempt to stop himself from answering.

Keith tries again. “What were you really trying to tell me, Takashi?”

“I was trying to tell you that I love you,” comes the quiet, gut-wrenching reply. It effectively shuts Keith up. Keith stares at him with a mix of emotions that he can’t quite decipher, but what he can see are the tears that fall from Keith’s eyes. He cups either side of Keith’s face in his hands and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “I was trying to tell you that I love you and that I don’t want you to leave.”

Keith chokes back a sob, and Takashi’s heart breaks a little.

“Do you remember your name?”

Keith forcibly pulls away from him, sighing heavily. “Yeah, it’s…”

He stops for a moment, purses his lips. His brows furrow slightly. He opens up his mouth again, but nothing comes out. He looks at Takashi with a mix of confusion, panic, and relief.

_He’s forgotten_.

Takashi doesn’t know whether he should be celebrating or mourning. He doesn’t know how to feel. Keith has just given up on the chance of returning to a normal, human life in favor of staying here.

Keith has chosen  _him_  over whatever was waiting on the other side.

“Keith,” he says. Takashi reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Keith’s ear and smiles softly. “Your name is Keith.”

A gust of wind blows, and a certain feeling overcomes Keith. He’s followed this path before. He’s danced this dance, and now, he’s dancing it with Takashi amid their sea of flowers.


End file.
